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THE CORPORALS ARE PROMOTED
The three Indian boys were doing their utmost to excite their poniesto their greatest speed up the height. As they sped on they glancedrepeatedly backward, as if fearing pursuit. Higher and higher theycame up the steep until we could not doubt it was their intention toreach the command.
"What does it mean? What does it mean?" exclaimed Frank. "Why arethose Navajo boys running their horses in this direction? It can'tbe--"
"Never mind, Frank," I interrupted. "Let us get down to the men assoon as we can. The Indian women are already riding after thewar-party."
At considerable risk to life and limb we slid down the ragged anglewhich we had ascended, and hurried to where Baldwin and the soldiersstood beside their saddled steeds.
We had barely reached the crest from which we could see the valleywhen the three whitewashed boys appeared on their panting and foaminganimals, the little one on the buck-skin pony in the lead.
"What in the world is this?" exclaimed Baldwin. "Three whitewashedyoung redskins! What do they want of us?"
"Here we are!" shouted a familiar voice, in excellent English. "Herewe are--Manuel, Sapoya, and I!"
Before we could sufficiently recover from our surprise, or, rather,calm our joyful realization of a hope born of the boys' start from thevalley below, they were among us, and Henry had sprung from his horseand embraced his brother, leaving a generous coating of _yeso_ uponthe army blue. Tears of joy had ploughed two streaks through thewhiting on his face, and lent a comical effect to the boyishcountenance. A general handshake ensued, and Corporal Frank asked,"Where are your clothes, Henry?"
"Confiscated by the chief Elarnagan."
"Not to wear?"
"Well, no; I think they might prove baggy on his diminutive person."
"Then why did he take them?"
"He has a numerous progeny, and the young Elarnaganitos have anarticle apiece. My saddle and bridle went to Mrs. Elarnagan. She ridesastride, you know."
"When did the chief take your clothes?"
"Just as soon as I arrived in the valley my horse and I were strippedof--But hold on, Frank; what am I thinking of?" and Henry ran to oneof the other boys, a graceful youngster whose perfect limbs andhandsome face the _yeso_ could not mask, and who sat his horse as ifhe were a part of the animal. Saying something to him in an undertone,the boy dismounted and approached me with Henry, who said, in Spanish:"This is Manuel Augustine Perea y Luna, of Algodones. It is he whoplanned the escape when I told him there were soldiers near."
I took the Mexican boy's hand and assured him of the great happinesshis escape afforded me, and the greater happiness it would afford hismother and relatives.
Frank approached, took Manuel's hand, and then dropped it to give hima hearty and brotherly embrace.
"Ah, Manuelito mio, I dreamed many dreams of rescuing you as wemarched through this country, but I never believed they would berealized," he said.
"But the little Enrique acted, and I am here," laughed Manuel.
"And Frank acted, too," said I, "as you shall soon hear; and you willlearn that it took both boys to effect your rescue."
"Pardon me," replied Manuel, "but it is not safe to remain herelonger. Elarnagan, whom you saw leaving the valley with his warriors,is intending to move down the Lithodendron to attack your trainsomewhere on the Colorado Chiquito."
At the close of his remarks Manuel turned away, as if to mount hishorse, and then, as if correcting an oversight, he said, "Wait onemoment, sir." Going up to the third boy, he spoke a few words to himin an unknown tongue. The boy sprang to the ground and came forward."This is Sapoya," continued Manuel, "a Cherokee boy, whom I found acaptive when I joined Elarnagan's band. He is my brother, and will gowith me and share my home."
Sapoya extended his hand and clasped mine. He was a handsome Indianboy, about the same age and height as his friend. He addressed me inNavajo, which was interpreted by Manuel: "I am glad to meet one whohas helped to open the broad land again to my brother and me. But ourhorses stand still, while those of our enemy fly to retake us."
Evidently the Mexican and Cherokee boys had no desire to again fallinto the hands of the Navajo chief. We made no further delay, butmounted and forced our animals down the mountain defiles as rapidly aspossible. As soon as the route would permit, Henry and Manuel rode oneach side of Frank, and I heard the former ask about Vic. Frankanswered in Spanish, so that the Mexican boy might understand. Suchexpressions as "La perra brava!" "La fina perrita Vic!" from time totime showed they were hearing of Vic's adventures.
"'GOD HAS GIVEN ME, AMONG MANY FRIENDS, TWO THAT ARESOMETHING MORE'"]
Finding that Corporal Frank was not doing himself justice in hisnarration, I drew alongside the boys and related what I knew ofFrank's midnight ride and rescue of Vic, an event which, had it notoccurred, would have left Henry and his friends still in captivity. Atthe conclusion of my tale Manuel changed his position from the flankto one between the brothers, and, taking a hand of Frank in his left,and one of Henry's in his right, rode on a few moments in silence.Then he said: "God has given me, among many friends, two that aresomething more. But for your brave acts I should still be a captive.Thank you for myself, my dear mother, and Sapoya."
Having reached the wagon-road crossing of the Carizo, we turned at acanter over the divide between it and the Lithodendron. As we roseabove a terrace our attention was attracted to two mounted Indiansscurrying off into the broken and higher country on our right.
"Ah, look!" shouted Manuel; "they expected to stop three naked,unarmed boys, and they are surprised to meet a troop of cavalry! Vivalos Estados Unidos! Run, you sheep-stealers, we are safely out of yourhands!"
Upon reaching the summit of the divide the whole war-party stoodrevealed, far to our right, out of rifle-shot. Plainly, our presencewas a great surprise to them. Although they greatly outnumbered us,the country was too open for their system of warfare, and they werepoorly armed. They stood sullenly aloof, and allowed us to canter pastunmolested.
Just as our rear was passing them we noticed a solitary warrioradvance and show a white cloth.
"That is Elarnagan," said Manuel. "He wants to speak with you."
Accompanied by the Mexican boy to act as interpreter, I advanced tothe chief. He took my hand with dignity, and said he accepted the lossof his pale-faced captives as the fortune of war, but he demanded thereturn of Sapoya. He said that in a fight with the Utes, ten yearsbefore, his people had captured a Cherokee chief, who was visitingthat tribe with his wife and child. The chief and his wife had died,and he, Elarnagan, had brought up the child as his own. He asked thatSapoya be restored to him.
I called the Indian lad to me and, repeating the words of the chief,said, "You may answer for yourself."
"Sapoya says to the bravest warrior of the Navajos, that he isgrateful for all the favors that he has received, and that he thinkshe has returned by hard service ample payment for all. He broughtparents, three horses, and ample clothing to the Navajos; he takesnothing away but the pony he rode. He has shared his blanket and foodwith his brother, Manuel, for these many moons, undergoing fatigue andexposure with him, until his heart beats as one with his comrade's,and he desires to go with him to his home and become one of hispeople."
The chief said nothing in reply, but advancing gave his hand in amityto both boys, and rode back to his people.
"He is a good chief and a brave one," said Manuel, as we rejoined thecommand, "but I should cherish kindlier memories of him if he hadgiven us some clothing and an extra blanket."
Later, as we were riding slowly out of the bed of Lithodendron, Franksaid, "I do not see how the Indians came to spare Vic."
"One of them did attempt to kill her, but I threw my arms about herand the chief patted her head and gave orders that she should not behurt. I think if her collar had not been taken off at Laguna she wouldhave been killed in a scramble to possess it. Even Elarnagan wouldhave considered her life worthless compared with th
e possession ofsuch a beautiful trinket."
"The chief seems to have taken quite a liking to Corporal Henry," Iremarked.
"Not enough to allow him to retain his clothing," said Manuel; "but hewould not permit him to be deprived of his pony. Perhaps you saw him,when you were on the butte, dash round the herd with Henry on hisshoulder?"
"Frank and I saw it," I answered.
"He said, when he placed Henry back upon Chiquita, 'He will make abrave chief.'"
Camp was reached a little after dark, and the boys plunged into theriver to remove the _yeso_, and then dressed themselves in civilizedgarments, Henry drawing on his reserve, and the others from thequartermaster's stores.
Had not Victoriana been a modest doggie, the amount of praise andattention she received from the four boys would have turned her head;and the boys themselves had no reason to complain of the kindlycongratulations they received from the infantry company.
Word was sent to Lieutenant Hubbell that Manuel Perea had beenrescued, and the following morning all the New Mexicans not on dutyrode into camp to congratulate the boy upon his escape. Spanish cheersand Spanish felicitations filled the air for an hour.
When the volunteers had gone and quiet was resumed, Brenda came, andher delight at seeing the boys again showed itself in ceaselesscaressings of Vic and many requests for a repetition of the account oftheir flying ride when the signal was waved from the butte. When sheat last withdrew, to repeat the story to her relatives, the corporalsand I wrote a letter to Senora Perea, to be delivered by her son. Inmy portion I related the circumstances attending his recovery,detailing the part taken by the boy corporals, the dog, and the troop.I said no one desired to claim the generous reward she had offered,since no one in particular had rescued Manuel; many things hadcombined to enable him to escape. If the lady insisted upon payingthe reward, we all desired that it should be devoted to the educationof Sapoya.
Frank added a few lines, and Henry closed the letter. The youngercorporal wrote:
"I've laughed with the rest over my two days' captivity among the Navajos, and made light of it. I don't mind telling you that after shivering through two nights without clothes and without enough blankets, being bitten by mosquitoes and flies, and scorched daytimes by the sun, I begin to think Manuel a great hero.
"You know when I saw you I told you I was going to bring back Manuel or be a prisoner with him. That, of course, was all foolish talk, for I planned nothing. To be sure, I was a prisoner with him for two days and had something to do about bringing him back, but it all happened without planning. It seems as if God directed us all through. Frank, Vic, the soldiers, officers, and myself--even the dry time from Jacob's Well to the Lithodendron--all had something to do with finding Manuel.
"About the reward the lieutenant speaks of, we think none of us deserve it. We've talked it over, and we think if you would give Sapoya a chance at school, and if you cannot make a white boy of him make him an educated man, that would be the best reward. He's very intelligent, and if he can have a good chance will learn fast.
"Frank and I have a scheme we hope you will approve of. Mr. Duncan has secured a detail from the War Department to a boys' military school in the States as instructor in tactics, and will probably go in November. We are intending to ask papa to let us join that school after the Christmas holidays. We want you to send Manuel and Sapoya there. Won't you, please? Be sure and say yes. Think what a fine chance it will be for Sapoya.
"You know we boys feel something more than a friendship for one another. I suppose it is like the comradeship of soldiers who have stood shoulder to shoulder in battle. There is a tie uniting us that is closer and firmer than friendship; we feel more like brothers.
"We will write often. Hoping Manuel will arrive home safe, and that he may never again be a captive,
"I remain your friend,
"HENRY BURTON."
Our letters were despatched by Manuel and Sapoya to LieutenantHubbell's camp, where Captain Bayard directed the boys to await thedetachment of New Mexican cavalry which had accompanied us from theRio Grande and which was shortly to return there.
We resumed our march the following day at a very early hour, and as wepassed the cavalry camp two half-dressed boys came bounding out to theroad-side to once more repeat their affectionate good-byes and renewtheir promises to meet in the future.
The march continued for a week longer, through a region over which thePullman car now rushes with the modern tourist, but through which wemoved at the gait of infantry. The boy corporals and Brenda Arnoldclimbed eminences, looked through clefts in precipices into thesublime depths of the great canon, stood on the edge of craters ofextinct volcanoes, penetrated the mysterious caverns of thecliff-dwellers, fished for trout in a mountain lake, caught axolotl ina tank at the foot of San Francisco Mountain, shot turkeys, grouse,and antelope, and enjoyed the march as only healthy youngsters can.Brenda became a pupil of the boys in loading and firing theirrevolvers, carbines, and fowling-pieces, and made many a bull's-eyewhen firing at a mark, but invariably failed to hit anything living.Henry said she was too tender-hearted to aim well at animals. That shewas no coward an incident to be told in a future chapter will prove.
When our train and its escort reached Fort Whipple, or, rather, thesite of that work--for we built it after our arrival--the Arnoldscaught up their cattle from our herd, and after a two weeks' stay inPrescott removed to a section of land which they took up in SkullValley, ten miles to the west by the mountain-trail, and twenty-fivemiles by the only practicable wagon-road. This place was selected fora residence because its distance from Prescott and its situation atthe junction of the bridle-path and wagon-road made it an excellentlocation for a way-side inn.
At a dress-parade held the evening before the family's departure fortheir new home, Brenda sat on her pony, Gypsy, near Captain Bayard,and heard an order read advancing her young friends from the grade ofcorporal to that of sergeant, "for soldierly attention to duty on themarch, gallant conduct in the affair at Laguna, and meritoriousbehavior in effecting the rescue of captive boys from the Navajos atCarizo Creek; subject to the approval of Colonel Burton."
Captured by the Navajos Page 10